venom

CHAPTER 17 | Star Shopping

Hunger.

That's what rumbles in shockwaves in your stomach as you groan, holding your head as you blink your eyes drowsily. Folding over the bed as it squeaks, you check the alarm clock set up on the nightstand, the red numbers glowing obnoxiously bright.

'2:17 A.M.'

'Of course,' you think sourly. 'I just had to wake up in the middle of the fucking night.'

You aren't sure what it was that lead you to awake so strangely. Maybe it was another occurring nightmare relating to your past, a little too realistic and painful for just being a dreamy haze of false creation from the mind. Dreams are surely an enigma, but at least, with nightmares, we know when they stem from something.

Like trauma.

Leaning over and turning on the warm tiffany-style lamp, it illuminates the room with an orangish glow. You fold over the blanket covering your body, shivering when the cool air nips across your skin; it's September, and the air conditioning in this place isn't exactly ideal.

It's much better than what you were used to, though.

Shuffling out of the bed as it creaks, your socked feet hit the ground. Holding your arms, you throw on your leather jacket over your white cami, sweatpants against your legs as you go ahead and throw on your combat boots. Eyelids heavy, yet wide awake, you scuffle out of the room.

You quietly open the door, the cool lights that are typically turned on overhead off, the hallway of bedrooms dark. Walking through the hallway, you make it to the end and take a turn, the florescent flickering hanging lights that stay on the majority of the night appearing in your vision.

Scavenging the many hallways for the meeting room, your stomach rumbles again. Ignoring it with a grunt, you eventually manage to approach the meeting/dining room, assuming that whatever pantry Taehyung gives you food from would be around that area.

You saunter into dining room, boots tapping against the flooring. The table is there, long and colored a classic dark hardwood with less than a dozen black chairs surrounding it. It's darker in here, causing you to squint as you feel around.

Approaching a white door in the corner, you open it up, unsure of what you're expecting. You quietly gasp when you see what's inside.

Food!

Licking your lips and stepping in the pantry of stacked shelves, you survey all of the snacks upon the shelves. There isn't many selections, only some different brands of chips, protein bars, and foods for muscle building, but you're thrilled nonetheless; you're surprised you didn't seek out the R.I's pantry sooner.

Grabbing a box of protein bars, you snatch it, rustling inside for a wrapped bar — these ones are dark chocolate flavored, your favorite.

Grinning in delight, you take two bars, not wanting be hungry in the night. Pocketing the bars, you softly shut the white door, turning back around and leaving the meeting room — it is sort of strange that their meeting room has a random ass pantry in the corner, but you can't say you're surprised.